


About Time

by crisiskris



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Requited Love, Spy Severus Snape, love and war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:34:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14014302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crisiskris/pseuds/crisiskris
Summary: Minerva watches Albus and Severus’s developing relationship.





	About Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Albus Dumbledore/ Severus Snape buggering bee; challenge unknown. Written before the last few books came out and not canon-compliant.

The first moment she saw the boy with him, she knew.  Eyes steel-hard and determined, she pulled the Headmaster aside during a break in the Order’s meeting.  “Albus, how could you take advantage of him like that?” She hissed, “For Merlin’s sake, he’s just a boy!”

Albus looked deeply troubled, but his blue eyes met hers with no shame.  “I know that, Minerva.  But right now he is our only option – what is the likelihood that we could even work an operative into the Death Eaters, let alone into Voldemort’s inner circle?  And if one comes knocking on our door, are we to refuse him because he is young?  This is a war, you know.”

Minerva glared at him.  “That wasn’t what I was referring to, and you know it,” she accused.  “I’m talking about your… relationship with the boy.  It’s completely inappropriate.”  At this, Albus had the grace to look embarrassed.  He studied his shoes and let the silence stretch out between them.  Finally, impatient, Minerva prompted, “Well?”

Albus sighed and looked at her again.  “I assure you, Minerva, there is no relationship.” 

The woman looked at him, astonished.  “But you so obviously love him – and he you, he would do anything for you – I don’t believe you.”  She crossed her arms and dared him to lie to her.

Instead Albus only looked away, out the window, his shoulders slumped.  “I would like nothing better than to love him openly, but I cannot.  It’s… as you said, it’s inappropriate. He would do anything for me.  He would die for me.  And because of this, we could never be equals.  I won’t dominate him.  He’s had entirely too much experience of that.”  Minerva inhaled sharply.  She heard the implication in the Headmaster’s voice.  Albus nodded.  “Yes.  I know so much about that boy’s pain – and I can do nothing about it.  All I want to do is hold him, Minerva, hold him and kiss him and tell him how much he is loved, and help him heal all the pains of his life.”  He turned to meet her eyes again, anguished.

She touched his arm compassionately.  “You would never know if he were returning your affections, or acting out of fear of being sent away.” She replied gently. 

Albus nodded.  “Precisely.  So I assure you, regardless of what you may think you see – there is nothing there.”

Minerva squeezed the arm she was touching.  “Not nothing, Albus.  You can be his friend.  And wars don’t last forever…”

Just then, Moody popped his head out of a nearby door.  “Albus, Minerva?” He called.  “We’re about ready to start up again.” 

Albus sighed again, stepping away from Minerva.  “Let’s pray that you are right,” he replied, and headed into the meeting.

 +++

Minerva glanced up across the staff room, looking over Filius’s head to the two men sitting in the corner.  They were lost in conversation, heads bent together.  Severus Snape had been a teacher for all of three weeks, and already he was proving himself competent, challenging, and stern – all qualities she herself admired in someone who was educating the young.  He seemed to be moving into his new life with ease and uncustomary grace.

Her gaze turned to the other man.  Albus had never shined brighter.  He laughed uproariously at Severus’s dry jokes, seemingly oblivious to the quick little smiles that flashed across the other man’s face or the way that Severus would light up with near joy at seeing the Headmaster made happy. 

Minerva settled back in her chair.  The last four years had been horrible; Severus had nearly been discovered a number of times.  He had been punished, arrested by ‘accident’, and one time had disappeared for nearly two weeks before showing up for an Order meeting, on time even though the meeting times and places changed every seven days, wearing his usual sneer as if nothing had happened.  No one had asked where he’d gone, and he’d said nothing.

But now it was all over.  The boy who had been forced to survive in impossible situations would at last be able to grow up.  Though Minerva still felt tears collect in her eyes every time she thought about James and Lily, and poor Harry off to live with those horrible Muggles, she was grateful that Severus would get his second chance.  She didn’t imagine he had expected to live through the war.  Now he would be able to build a life – that is, unless Albus got in the way.

She cornered the older man in the hallway one evening.  “So,” she asked, her eyes narrow, “is he everything you expected him to be?”  Both of them were surprised at the bitterness in her tone.

“Minerva!” Albus exclaimed.  “Please!  Why do you think so poorly of me?  Have I ever given you reason to believe that I would take advantage of someone’s feelings?  Have I ever done anything to betray my own?"

She had to admit that he had not. Still… “Well, the war is over, Albus,” she replied.  “Wasn’t that what you were waiting for?”

He shook his head sadly.  “I don’t understand why you need my reassurance, Minerva,” he replied, “but please be assured that I have done nothing untoward to Severus.  He is young, and he has been gravely harmed.  He deserves every opportunity to grow in peace now.  Perhaps when he has become the man he is meant to be…”  Albus trailed off, blue eyes filled with sadness.

The strength and purity of her friend’s feelings suddenly flooded towards her.  “Oh, Albus,” she murmured, “forgive me!  I don’t know why I doubt you.” 

He smiled sadly.  “Because you care, Minerva,” he answered.  “And I am gratified to know that there is someone else in Severus’s corner.  I fear that even here, life will not be easy for him.”

“You make him happy, Albus,” she said.  “He lights up whenever you laugh with him.  I’ve even seen him smile.”

”I love him dearly,” he replied softly.  He sighed.  “I don’t know how I ever ended up feeling this way for someone I couldn’t have.”

Minerva felt terrible. “You’re doing the right thing, Albus,” she assured him, knowing that it was inadequate, but having nothing else to offer.  “And you’re a good friend.”

He nodded, looking every bit his age.  “I suppose it will have to be enough,” he decided. 

Severus appeared in the doorway just then.  “Headmaster, Professor,” he said respectfully.

“What is it, Severus?” Albus asked, unable to keep the smile from his face.  Severus lit up, just like Minerva said he did.  

“Headmaster, could you come down to my study?  I’ve been working on a potion for lycanthropes, and I’d like to get your opinion.”  He bustled the older man away, and Minerva felt her heart stretch and burn, like it was going tear for trying to spread itself too thinly over too many people.  They loved each other.  It was so obvious.  It was so unfortunate.

“Maybe with time,” she told herself.  “Once Severus has grown a little.”  He was only 22, too young, really.  But with time… she wandered away, reassuring herself that happy endings were possible.

 +++

Severus did indeed grow into himself.  To Albus’ both delight and pain, the Potions master became more sure of himself as a professional and as a man.  He began to head out in the evenings, first just to the Three Broomsticks and then later into larger and more popular locations.  He was never going to be attractive in conventional terms, but Severus had an energy that drew some people towards him, and he did not find himself without company for many of his excursions, though the company never stayed.  Albus assumed that his poor love was being hurt, but Minerva suspected that Severus was doing the heartbreaking.  He was restless.  He was searching.  It was obvious what he was searching for.

A parade of lovers, older than him, with twinkling blue eyes, moved through the dungeons at Hogwarts.  Severus was discreet; the students would never know what their grumpy Potions professor was up to.  Minerva, however, had the advantage of her animagus form, and as a cat, she used to wander the halls as men were coming and going.  She wondered if Albus knew about Severus’s lovers.  He probably did.  She wondered if he’d realized that they all looked like him.

As Severus grew older, the parade slowed, and then stopped, and his professional life  began to take precedence.  He finished the Wolfsbane potion, and created an improved version of Veritaserum.  He developed a curriculum for his class that was both practical and challenging.  He grew into his role as a teacher, relishing his place as number-one-bastard in the students’ minds.  Professor Agate retired, and Severus moved into the Head of House position for Slytherin with the detached gracefulness that he had developed as an adult.

_Soon_ , Minerva thought, watching him.  He no longer lit up in joy when Albus smiled at him.  He no longer acquiesced to everything the man had to say.  He began to argue with the Headmaster, began to meet him on an equal footing.  Soon.  Minerva glanced across the dinner table one day and met Albus’s eyes.  He smiled.  He knew. 

Then, a few weeks before the beginning of term, Professor Quirrell reappeared, looking more nervous than ever, wearing a stupid turban on his head.  When they asked him about his summer, he was quite vague, stammering worse than he ever had before.  Minerva had taken to watching the Defence against the Dark Arts professor, expecting him to have a breakdown any moment. 

So it was that she was watching when Severus returned from a Potions conference in Norway, and found his usual seat beside Professor Quirrell.  He sat down just as Quirrell looked away from him.  Minerva’s sensitive hearing picked up a sharp hiss, and she glanced at Severus’s face.  He had gone deathly pale, grasping his left arm with his right hand, eyes glancing around wildly.  He was looking for something.  Minerva could plainly see he was terrified, but when his eyes happened to meet hers, he looked down, releasing his arm abruptly.  Minerva was astonished to realize he was ashamed.  Standing quickly, he muttered something about leaving a cauldron over heat and left the table.  Quirrell’s nervous fidgeting stilled for a moment as he watched the Potions master leave.

Minerva’s brow furrowed, and she was just about to say something when Albus interrupted her thoughts, saying, “I’ve sent Hagrid to pick up the stone – I have a strange sensation that it is no longer safe at Gringott’s.  And – Minerva this will interest you, no doubt – he’ also going to pick up Harry Potter!  Seems the poor boy hasn’t been getting our letters after all.”

“Oh, Harry Potter!” Filius exclaimed.  “This will be an interesting year, indeed!”  And Minerva was swept away into the excited babble of teachers planning out their coming year, and forgot all about the strange behavior she had seen.

But something had changed.  Severus withdrew from her, from everyone, really.  He took to sitting by himself at meal times and in the staff room, not speaking to anyone, but staring out as if his mind were miles away.  He still met with Albus on a regular basis, but their conversations had turned serious and hushed rather than filled with laughter.  He watched Quirrell like a hawk, and Quirrell watched him, his usually worried face hardening into something Minerva couldn’t quite read whenever the Potions master was near.  And the reports she got from the Gryffindors in his classes…

“Really, Albus,” she finally said.  “I think he’s out of control.  I never expected he would carry on a childhood grudge to the point where he’s punishing James’s son!” 

Albus listened, but he didn’t seem to agree with her.  “I’ll speak with Severus,” he promised, but she had the sense that he was appeasing her.  She left feeling more confused than ever.

 +++

Four years later, everything was clear.  Too clear.  Voldemort was back.  Minerva was there when Severus bared his arm, showed his dark mark clearly outlined against his pale flesh.  In her mind, there was no denying it, regardless of what Fudge might have to say.  She swept out of the infirmary, on her way to find Hagrid as Albus had requested, her mind whirling over the images: Severus’s arm, his pale face, the Dementor reaching down, Harry lying in the hospital bed…

When she returned with Hagrid and Madame Maxime, Severus was gone.  Albus told her later that he had “resumed his prior occupation” and her heart filled with dread.  It was happening again.

They were preparing for war.

Severus returned late in the evening, pale and silent, and only to Albus would he relate where he had been and what he had been doing.    Apparently, whatever it was had been successful; they emerged from Albus’s study just as Minerva was sweeping down that particular hallway on her nightly monitoring rounds, and Albus looked grim faced but pleased.  Severus was, as usual, hidden in his mask of indifference, but he couldn’t quite make it reach his eyes.

Disappointment.  Desolation.  Despair.  Minerva read the emotions clearly, and watched his gaze travel to Albus’s face before lowering to the floor.  His jaw clenched, as if by tensing his muscles he could somehow harden his heart, and Minerva swore she could feel hers breaking.

 +++

The next three years passed as a blur.  Minerva felt, more often than not, that she really wasn’t equipped for war; she was too old to be strong through the added stresses of Ministry ignorance, the threat of danger, raids and battles and secret meetings.  She could barely keep up with her students!  She felt tired, too tired to set her feelings aside when she needed to, and she was constantly worried.  Tension piled on top of tension, and she felt herself torn by all of it: the stupidity of Minister Fudge, the too-sweet cruelty of that Umbridge woman, Sirius Black’s death… all around her, her colleagues and her students were showing signs of the strain.

She worried for Harry and the other Gryffindors.  She worried for all of the children.  She worried for the innocent families, the Muggles, and everyone who got in Voldemort’s way. 

And she worried for Severus and Albus.  She watched them at an Order meeting one night, discussing the younger man’s latest intelligence as the night deepened.  Albus looked every bit his age, and Severus looked twenty years too old.  The young man had grown painfully thin, and she wondered if he ever slept at all anymore.  Albus had told her in confidence that he had been having nightmares.  He was tight-lipped about his experiences with the Death Eaters, unless the information could be used to help the Light, but she suspected he was having to participate in more than he could justify.  She knew the damage that guilt could do, and she was certain that it was eating Severus alive.

Things were drawing to a close – everyone could feel the events building.  Harry Potter stood poised to fulfill his destiny, as fully trained a wizard as he could ever be, with his friends grim-faced and determined at his side.  Severus had weaseled his way into Pettigrew’s confidence, and had discovered the location and time when Voldemort planned to make his first explicit move.  It was the perfect place for an ambush, near the Forbidden Forest along the edge of Hogsmeade.  All they needed was something that would excite the Death Eaters and their master enough to get them to come into the trees.

“What about me?” Harry Potter asked, but the idea was dismissed.  Voldemort had given up trying to attack the young man as Harry had grown stronger, and Severus believed that the Dark Lord was waiting until the strength of the Light was weaker before he would risk that confrontation.  Besides, Harry was the hope and strength of the light: they couldn’t risk losing him.

Albus was shaking his head.  “No.  What we need is something that will anger them, blind them to their actions to the point where they follow the trap we lay out for them…”  he drifted off as if he’d suddenly realized the solution, and looked horrified.  The rest of the room stared at him, confused, except for Severus.  He merely raised an eyebrow.

“Something like the discovery of a spy in their midst, for example?” He said coolly.  Albus nodded, unable to speak.   The room erupted into chaos.

Minerva gasped, staring wildly from one man to the other.  Albus looked as though he would cry.  Severus’s face was masked in indifference.  The two men looked at each other, and their eyes never unlocked.  Time seemed to slow to a standstill, and despite the noise of everyone shouting at once, Minerva had the sense that the world had gotten suddenly quite silent.  Then Severus nodded and found his feet.  “I will flee from them, and lead them to you,” he said, and his quiet voice cut through the pandemonium around them.  “You must be prepared.”  Albus nodded again, and Severus headed for the door.

“But you’ll be killed!”  Harry Potter blurted out, his face a mask of shock and horror.  Severus paused with one hand on the doorknob, and looked back over his shoulder.

“Very good, Mr. Potter,” he drawled, sneering.  Then he was gone. 

“Albus you can’t let him do this!”

“This is madness!”

“There must be another way!”  Voices erupted into protest once more.  Minerva waited, holding her breath unconsciously, for Albus to restore order, fully expecting him to silence them all with a look and explain how sacrifices must be made, and that there wasn’t any other option.  Slowly the voices contained themselves, everyone’s eyes turning to the Headmaster uneasily, wondering why he didn’t speak.

Albus surprised them all.  He burst into tears and laid his head in his hands, sobbing.

 +++

The day dawned clear and quiet.  Severus had managed to send word by way of a wayward raven that everything was in place.  They stood, professors and students, aurors and townsfolk, grim and ready, and waited.  The sun rose and heated up the forest, and they stood and waited.  The sun reached its peak and began to descend into afternoon, and they waited.  “What the bloody hell is taking so damn long?” Someone muttered.  Minerva echoed the sentiments, sweat trickling down her back.

Suddenly there was a shout.  “He’s coming!” cried Professor Sinistra from her position in the treetops above.  She swung down, her omniocculars dangling from her hand.  “He’s on his way, and they’re all following, just like he said they would.”

“Everyone on guard!  Wands at the ready!”  Orders rang out as people rushed into their positions.  Minerva caught Albus’s eye and saw the grimness she felt reflected there. 

Within a matter of minutes, they could hear the shouts and the sharp whine of curses being cast.  “Traitor!  Kill the traitor!”  Minerva looked up to see Severus racing over the rise of the hill before them.  The Death Eaters were hot on his heels.  She watched in horror.

He ran faster than she’d ever seen a man run, his feet streaking over the ground.  His face was bloody, and his left arm dangled uselessly.  He had no wand.  His eyes were unfocused and his jaw was set, pain clearly written on his countenance.  As she watched, a curse flew toward him, and he just barely dodged out of its way.   Another one followed the first, glancing off his shoulder.  Severus cried out in pain and stumbled.

The group watching collectively caught its breath.  “He’s too far,” someone moaned.  “He’s not close enough…”  But Severus found his feet and kept running, close enough now that Minerva could see his chest heaving as he struggled for breath.  He was a ghost running toward them, the blood flowing out of him, his skin pale.  She could nearly feel his energy draining. 

“Come on, come on…” from beside her Moody started urging him on, and others took up the chant.  “You can make it, Snape, come on.  Just a bit further…”  Severus was maybe a hundred feet from the tree line, but the Death Eaters were nearly close enough to grab him now, and Lucius was grinning madly as he reached out for the injured man…

Severus was pulled up short, Lucius’s hand tangled in his cloak.  He shouted wordlessly and struggled, panicking, while the other Death Eaters surrounded him.  Minerva felt her heart drop out of her stomach.  Severus went down.  The bodies of his enemies closed in around him and he disappeared from view.

“They aren’t close enough!” Sinistra gasped.

“We should attack anyway,” someone suggested.

“No, they’ll get away,” someone else worried.

“Goddamn it!” Moody shouted.  “Dumbledore, give the order.  Dumbledore!”

Albus was staring at the scene, frozen in grief.  Minerva walked up to him and shook him.   “If he is to have any chance, Albus, it will be up to us.  Speak up, quickly!” She whispered urgently.  He seemed to start in her hands, and shook himself.

“Attack,” he whispered back, his voice breaking.  He cleared his throat and cried out, “Attack!” 

The members of the Order sprang into motion.  Severus’s plan had worked like a charm – nearly all the Death Eaters had followed him.  Minerva strode forward, her wand at the ready, and as she did so, she felt the sudden breeze of a dozen broomsticks, riders cleverly hidden under invisibility cloaks, rising, off to find Voldemort himself.  Harry, Hermione, and Ron were among them, she knew.

Then she had no more time to reflect on the happenings around her, because she was face to face with a Death Eater, and she was dodging curses and spitting them out faster than she ever thought she could, and everything dissolved into chaos and noise around her…

 +++

Minerva slowed to a stop more than an hour later.  The Death Eaters lay in tatters around them, dead or captured.  Mediwitches were moving through the scene, treating their injured and covering their dead.  There were too many dead.  She looked around.  Harry and the rest of the broom riders were just returning, yelling triumphantly, their cheers echoed wearily by those on the ground.  Voldemort was dead.

Feeling exhausted beyond words, Minerva stumbled through the hell around her.  She had only one thought – _find Albus.  Albus will need you now_.  Severus was dead.  She peered around, picking her way through the bodies, until she spied him.  He was on his knees, cradling a dark form against his chest.  She moved towards him.

She was about to touch his shoulder when a faint sound reached her ears.  Severus – alive?  Her heart pounded and she looked closer.  The dark man in Albus’s arms was moving!

“Shh,” Albus crooned.  “Don’t try to speak.”  He rocked Severus back and forth gently.  “My dear boy, my love, I’m so glad you are alive.”  Tears streamed down the older man’s face.

“…love…?” Severus repeated weakly.

“My love, my heart, my cherished.  I’m sorry, my love, I’m so sorry.  I should have told you years ago, I should have held you, I should have told you that you were loved, forgive me.”  Albus was babbling, tears flowing freely, rocking back and forth.  Severus’s hands caught in the older man’s robes.

“Albus,” he whispered, his face creasing in pain.  Minerva stepped forward at last.  The Headmaster looked up at her, weeping.

“He needs medical attention, Albus,” she said gently.  “Come on, we’ve got to go.  We’ve got to bring him to Poppy.” She reached down and helped the older man stand, holding his elbow until he found his balance with Severus in his arms.  “Come on,” she said again, guiding him.  Albus followed without speaking.

“Albus,” Severus whispered again.  He gasped in pain and Albus cradled him closer, his steps becoming more stable. 

“Thank you, Minerva,” he said gruffly.  Minerva conjured up a gurney and they strode into the forest, Poppy joining them seconds later, already beginning treatment as they made the trek back to Hogwarts.  Minerva moved back to let her in, breathing deeply.  Severus was barely holding on to life, and she knew it would take more than a foolish old woman’s hope for happy endings to bring him back.

 +++

Several days passed before Minerva could find time amongst the cleaning up to visit the private rooms in the infirmary where the injured professor was recuperating.  The moment she saw the man with him, she knew.  Albus was sitting on the edge of Severus’s hospital bed, laughing over something as they played a game of chess.  Severus, still weak and pale, still looking horribly tired and drawn out, smiled, his eyes lighting up at Albus’s laugh.

Minerva hung back, watching them.  Severus’s delicate hands moved his pieces forward, smashing Albus’s to bits.  “You never were any good at strategy, Albus,” he teased, and the two men laughed again.  Minerva watched as the game ended, Albus’s king throwing down his sword, making a fist at his owner.  Albus just smiled as he put the pieces away.  Severus yawned. 

“You should be resting,” Albus scolded in a perfect imitation of Madam Pomfrey, and they chuckled again. 

“Are you going to tuck me in?”  Severus replied, raising one eyebrow suggestively.  Albus smiled, doing just that.  He stroked Severus’s hair away from his forehead, and then leaned in to capture the younger man’s lips in a gentle kiss. 

“Sleep well, Severus.  I love you,” Albus said.

“Love you,” Severus echoed, already drifting off.  Albus straightened and watched the dark man sleep for a moment, before turning around.

“Something you wanted, Minerva?” he asked, coming over to her.  She shook her head.  They stood together for a moment, looking at the man in the bed. 

“He looks happy,” she murmured. 

Albus nodded.  “I should hope so!” he joked. 

Minerva smiled at her friend.  “It’s about time, Albus,” she said.  

“You would know,” Albus replied.  “You’re the one who’s been watching all these years.”


End file.
